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We have reached the end of one era, and now we don't know what is all around us. Because we're already in a new era, and it is very different from th… - László Krasznahorkai
" "We have reached the end of one era, and now we don't know what is all around us. Because we're already in a new era, and it is very different from the old one. Science and the world of technology are both changing everything so quickly, even our bodies. So the original ancient culture was present here, but to no avail, at this point in history it has come to stop. It still has some effect, some kind of continuity, but it cannot analyse and reformulate things, it cannot impact things with absolute strength. The age to follow will be full of dangers. It will be full of difficulties. In all likelihood, it will not be a good future for mankind. It is even possible this new era will mean the end of mankind.
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About László Krasznahorkai
László Krasznahorkai (; born 5 January 1954) is a Hungarian novelist and screenwriter known for difficult and demanding novels, often labeled postmodern, with dystopian and melancholic themes. Several of his works, including his novels Satantango (, 1985) and The Melancholy of Resistance (, 1989), have been turned into feature films by Hungarian film director Béla Tarr.
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Krasznahorkai László
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Additional quotes by László Krasznahorkai
Apple cores, bits of old boots, watch-straps, overcoat buttons, rusted keys, everything, he coolly noted, that man may leave his mark by, was here, though it wasn’t so much this ‘icy museum of pointless existence’ that astonished him (for there was nothing remotely new about the particular range of exhibits), but the way this slippery mass snaking between the houses, like a pale reflection of the sky, illuminated everything with its unearthly, dull, silvery phosphorescence.
…era alquanto facilitato nel sentire l’umana nullità rispetto al vertiginoso infinito della volta celeste, si muoveva libero nello spazio immenso e imperscrutabile come se quello fosse il suo vero mondo, in questo, prigioniero della sua libertà, non riusciva a trovare posto, soffocato dall’incommensurabile ristrettezza di tale “desolante aridità”…
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